


Like You Want Me To

by angstbot



Series: Readers' Choice [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Your ladies are always capable of asking for what they need for their own pleasure but I feel like this might have been a process for R (b\c Leo’s an asshat, thinking TL is more than she deserves, etc). I would love to see E help her through these issues to a place where she’s comfortable “directing” E to make her own experience more pleasurable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like You Want Me To

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 4A.
> 
> Beard brigade warning for a brief mention of past OQ sex.

_I’ll make love to you  
Like you want me to_

Emma’s first inkling came when Regina pulled back from a fervent kiss to ask, “How- do we-?” In all the time she’d known her, from enemies to friends to their latent attraction blossoming into a romance in recent weeks, the sheriff had never seen the mayor so lost for words, but from context she must be asking how women have sex. Okay, she was going to be Regina’s first woman. Emma could handle that.

“We have lots of options. Whatever you like to do,” she smiled, hopefully reassuringly.

“What do you mean, whatever I like to do?” The utter confusion on the older woman’s face told the savior there was much more to this than inexperience with ladysexing.  “I’m assuming there’s some kind of phallus involved,” Regina added, like she was trying to get back on topic.

“That’s one option,” Emma conceded, “but not the only one.”

“But how- Without you,” the queen paused, looking away as she searched for a term, “mounting and- thrusting? Or- do I?”

The blonde was momentarily speechless. She knew the land they’d all come from was in a time before indoor plumbing, but- “That’s probably what you’re most familiar with,” she began, trying to be diplomatic. “And definitely I thought that was the only kind, too.” When she was fourteen, but better not to mention that. “But it’s not. Um,” god, this was uncomfortable. “And a lot of women don’t like that quite as much as some of the other ways,” she added. “But- every person’s different and it’s about what you like?” She knew she was asking almost more than telling now and not being the best guide in this.

“I’ve never heard it put that way before,” the older woman said softly, still clearly confused.

“What way?”

“That it matters what I like.”

Emma’s heart broke a little for Regina in that moment.

**

A few days later they were once again kissing intently, hands tracing adoringly over one another. Emma coaxed the queen to lie back against the couch and pressed a thigh between her legs. “Do you like that?” she asked as she began to rock and kiss down her chin and over her jaw.

“It’s fine,” Regina said.

“It’s supposed to be more than fine,” Emma replied, popping up her head to meet Regina’s eyes and containing her sigh so as not to make the older woman feel like she was exasperated with _her_. “If things I’m doing are only ‘fine’ I want you to tell me so I can do better.”

The queen’s eyes searched her face. “This is very different than what I’m used to,” she said finally.

“I can tell,” Emma said. With the mood gone anyway, she decided to ask what she’d been wondering since their last conversation. “What _are_ you used to?”

Regina’s face turned contemplative. Emma knew she’d share when she was good and ready, tracing adoring fingertips over the older woman’s sternum and ribs and belly while she waited. Finally, Regina began, almost inaudibly, “Sex was a thing I had that men wanted—an obligation.” She swallowed hard, and the savior knew what that meant.  “A weapon, a gift-” she trailed off.

Emma understood; she’d done that in her days as a bail bondsperson—and before. “But was it ever- _more_? Did you ever _like_ it?”

Another long moment lost in thought. “I suppose,” the mayor said finally, “with Graham- Under the curse, I was so lonely. It was companionship, physical closeness. Human contact. That?”

“That’s part of it,” the blonde conceded. The queen’s hesitance was so unlike her, but Emma had slowly come to realize that when it came to romance Regina was much more sixteen than the nearly sixty years she’d actually lived—not at all the supremely confident queen she was in every other area.

“Or-” the queen’s face got soft, and the savior steeled herself because she knew what was coming. “Robin-” Yep, that still hurt. “The intimacy. Him inside me. The weight of him, the closeness. And physically, it felt nice. You know?”

“It’s-” How to put this to not make her feel bad? “It can be so much more than nice. I mean, it’s more than nice when you’re by yourself, right?” There was that blank stare again. “You don’t masturbate?” Emma was incredulous.

The older woman blinked. “I don’t what?”

“Touch yourself,” the savior clarified, “Give yourself pleasure.”

“I would never- My mother said-” Regina sputtered, horrified.

“Of course,” Emma chuckled bitterly. “I guess it won’t be hard to rock your world,” she muttered almost to herself.

The mayor tilted her head. “What?”

“Make you feel good,” the sheriff explained.

The queen reached out and touched her face, and when she murmured, “You want to give me pleasure” it was almost in awe.

“Of course!” Emma insisted. “I want to-” she searched for something suitably poetic, “take you to the heights of ecstasy.”

Regina looked at her for a long, long moment. “Show me.”

**

Afterward, the blonde never really knew how they’d made it to the bedroom, gotten undressed, come to be lying facing each other on the bed, because she’d spent the whole time silently cursing her big mouth.

Emma knew how to please a woman, of course. Pretty damn well if she did say so herself. But this wasn’t some random hookup. This was _Regina_. And she’d promised the heights of ecstasy to the queen when neither of them had any ideas about what in particular she liked. Okay. She could do this. How would she- “Did you ever play that game when you were little, when you’d look for something and people would say when you were getting warmer or colder?”

The queen raised an eyebrow. “Hide the Slipper?”

“Sure,” Emma agreed. “Let’s do that, except sexy. I want you to tell me if you like what I’m doing, warm and cold, okay?” Regina nodded.

And so the sheriff experimented. Leaning in, she trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the mayor’s neck. That was “Very warm.” Nipping at Regina’s jaw only got “Warm,” but sucking on the spot below her ear was “Hot!” Emma grinned around the flesh in her mouth, then played with that for a while, kissing away, and then back to that spot, kissing along the queen’s jaw to the corresponding place on the other side, which was equally “Yes, hot!”

And there was so much more of Regina’s body to adore and explore. Light brushes of Emma’s thumbs across the mayor’s nipples were “Tepid,” but rolling them between her fingers was “Oh! Warm.” Regina, it turned out, was so sensitive that sucking was “Hot! God, hot” but teeth were “Too much!”

The heel of Emma’s hand grinding on the queen’s pussy was “Mmh, warm.” Long, two-fingered strokes from her clit to her opening was “So warm. So, so warm” (so was Emma’s “Fuck, baby, so wet”). Two fingers inside and the blonde’s thumb on her clit was “Warmer, oh, warmer, Emma, yes,” trailing off into moans of “Hot” when she began to fuck her steady-sweet.

But the savior was only getting started. Kissing lavishly down the queen’s body, she discovered that flat, slow strokes of her tongue up the whole length of her pussy were a gasped “Warm!” that really felt more like a “hot.”  Keeping her fingers still so as to not ruin the experiment, she tried tongue swirls, and flicks, and wrapping her lips around the queen’s clit and moving her head side-to-side . . . and then she had to remind Regina to give her feedback and do all three again (“Hot!” “Hot!” “Very Warm!”).

Sucking on the older woman’s clit pulled a long, low moan of “Hot” from her throat, followed by a gasped “Umnh!” that the savior took to be even better when she added tongue swirls. Beginning to move her fingers again, she made long, slow motions, out almost all the way and then knuckle-deep.

“Oh! Emma, hot, so hot” the queen moaned, and the sheriff smiled around her clit for a moment before returning to the solemn and glorious task of making her feel amazing. She sucked and swirled and fucked and filled her queen. This was adoration and worship and Regina’s “Emma- hot- Emma- please- yes- don’t stop- hot-” had the feel of a prayer or incantation.

Emma took the completely inarticulate noise when she curled her fingers against the queen’s g-spot as hotter still, switching to reading Regina’s breath, moans, clenching around her fingers instead now. She took her higher and higher, her mouth and fingers searching out every shading of reaction, every ounce of pleasure, until she shuddered with ecstasy.

And when Regina lay, spent, looking up with exhaustion and wonder, the barest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, Emma thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d gotten this right.

**

“Emma,” the queen insisted, her tone a little sharp in her need, “Fingers. Now.”

“Oh?” the blonde asked, looking up from where she’d been lavishing kisses on the queen’s thighs, though she readily pushed inside.

“Yes,” Regina confirmed. “And your mouth.”

All Emma could say was “Mmh,” because the instant the request was spoken her voice was muffled by the velvet firmness of Regina’s clit between her lips.

“Sucking, yes! Like that,” the queen purred, threading fingers through blonde hair. “Oh, and use your tongue too,” she gasped. “No, I need flicking today,” she corrected a moment later, “from underneath. Yes, like that. Good, Emma, yes,” and god, did the blonde love having showed this amazingly responsive woman that what she liked mattered and she should ask for it.

Soon the queen was bucking, rolling her hips, muscles cording, gutturally insisting, “Fuck me, fuck me, don’t stop.” Emma moaned into her pussy, because Regina demanding things was her favorite part of sex these days. “G-spot now. Now, Emma, oh. Yes! Harder! More! Faster!”

But when she reached the incoherent point, all “Unmh nnh uhh,” it was music to the savior’s ears, because she knew what was next. “I’m coming! I’m coming! Coming for you Em-ma.” _That_ was the best thing to be told.

**Author's Note:**

> Readers' Choice V, Part 2.


End file.
